i love this photo of jennifer concentrating deeply

as she begins to spin lokta thread, kami-ito.

her hands know so much

and weren't happy with the drop spindle

but she felt comfortable with the bobbin winder.

that's how it is

i think,

as you make techniques and practices foreign to you

as you make them your own.

you juggle them and try to find the connection

and you know deeply when something

resonates or fascinates or reminds

creates longing and love in your heart.

over at terri windling's blog today

she wrote about mr finch's work and cs lewis.

and about longing.

while my work is not so much words, but images

and books, and textile,

i share that feeling.

i want people to look and see and feel somehow

a longing.

it's that sort of day here today,

rainy and contemplative,

my laundry got half dry before i took it down,

as the first drops began,

and hung it inside as i do in winter.

monica langwe shared this image today.

and i realize these books,

all of which i want to hold and read
longing, again,

would likely be in a language unfathomable to me

and likely be

about something uninteresting as well.

there would be no lucy or peter or edmond or susan.

or narnia.

but there could be teaching in these bindings,

the books themselves now taking on personality.

as below, the lamppost and the ladder are doing.

i have put my trust

in the natural world,

in the decay of summer leaves

and they are just beginning to turn

a touch of gold in the sugar maples

always the old, hurt trees show first.

and here,

in the studio

that today is my dining room

i am thinking of how to build a big

BOOK.

how can one make sense of the longing

that fiber holds for some of us?

how image works in--

or of making paper,

here of poplar seed fiber

or of weaving paper into shifu

as yuko is doing here

poplar seed pulp.

a gift, an experiment, a paper, a fiber.

a ramble today, my thoughts are moseying along.